


shall we dance?

by harinezumi_kun



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-04
Updated: 2010-05-04
Packaged: 2017-11-04 13:57:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/394634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harinezumi_kun/pseuds/harinezumi_kun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>nino doesn't know the waltz. how lucky that oh-chan does!</p>
            </blockquote>





	shall we dance?

When his manager had said they were going to dance for this photoshoot, Nino hadn’t thought much of it. It was not such an unusual request, and they had a new single out—maybe they were doing exclusive shots of the new number or something.

Then he finds out that it’s only him and Leader doing the shoot. Still, he shrugs it off. The interviewer is probably going to ask them to do a dance competition or some stupid thing.

But it’s the tuxedos that finally tip him off that there’s something fishy going on. The outfits for the new single are not even close to tuxedos, and it turns out they’re doing the photoshoot in a hotel ballroom.

“The waltz?” Nino says again, incredulous. “Are you serious?”

The photographer—a scruffy young man with a pair of out-sized sunglasses on his head—just holds his hands up innocently.

“Hey man, I just do what the boss tells me.” He chews his gum noisily as he speaks. “And the boss says waltz.”

Nino lets out a huffy sigh, and waves the man off before turning to Ohno. The older man, true to form, just looks placidly around the wide ballroom without a word. The photographer has wandered away, and somewhere across the room, syrupy strains of old-timey dance music start to play.

“Well, come on, let’s get this over with,” Nino mutters, dragging Ohno by the wrist out into the middle of the floor.

Once there, however, Nino pauses. He’s never waltzed in his life, and definitely not with another man, so deciding how to begin is a little tricky. It doesn’t help that he can already hear the photographer clicking away madly in the background.

Unexpectedly, Ohno steps forward and takes one of Nino’s hands in his own, while placing his free hand at the younger man’s waist.

“Hey,” Nino protests after a moment, “how come you get to lead?”

Ohno pauses long enough to blink once. “Because I’m the Leader.”

The look in Ohno’s eyes is so determined and earnest, Nino can only laugh as he is swept across the dance floor.

Their movement is awkward at first. Ohno seems to know what he’s doing, but Nino is still new to this, and it takes him a minute to figure out the pattern of the steps. When he finally feels confidant enough to look away from his feet, he finds Ohno watching him with a soft smile.

“Where did you learn to waltz anyway?” he asks, trying not to blush too noticeably under Ohno’s stare.

“My mom taught me.”

Nino just shakes his head. “Naturally.”

“You picked it up quick,” Ohno tells him, with what sounds like a note of consolation in his voice.

And for once, Nino finds he doesn’t have anything else to say. Ohno is still looking at him with that little smile, and it’s so easy to just relax and let the other man take the lead. It seems to him that the sound of the camera, even the music, fades to a quiet hum. Suddenly he feels like he can read more in Ohno’s face in this moment than in years of watching him more closely than he cares to admit.

_I like this, here, with you_ , Ohno says, smiling a little wider and glancing down for just a moment, bashful.

_Me too_ , Nino returns a radiant grin, grips Ohno’s hand a little tighter.

Unconsciously, they begin to slow. Nino is searching Ohno’s eyes, because it seems like something is about to happen, something important that he’s been waiting for without ever really knowing what it is. Ohno’s face is getting closer, isn’t it? He should be worried about that, but he’s too busy watching Ohno’s eyes draw nearer and nearer, until he can feel his own quickened breaths come back to him across the tiny space that’s separating them.

“Okay, I need some actual shots with your faces in them, turn this way please!”

The sound of the photographer’s voice jars Nino almost painfully out of his minor trance. For the briefest instant, he thinks he sees something like disappointment on Ohno’s face before they both turn practiced smiles to the camera.

***

Later, in the dressing room, as they’re both changing back into street clothes, Nino is holding a furious mental debate with himself over the best way to get back to that moment right before the photographer interrupted them. He’s saved from having to make a decision, though, when he feels a hand on his shoulder, and is turned firmly around until he is once again face to face with Ohno.

Nino feels heat rise to his cheeks when he realizes Ohno hasn’t bothered to put his shirt back on yet, but manages to hold the older man’s gaze. There’s a question in Ohno’s eyes now, and a hesitance in the way his lips are parted just slightly. Nino smiles, and gives a small nod, and prays that it’s the right answer.

Moments later, their mouths meet warmly, confidently. Arms slide around waists, necks, pulling bodies closer, tighter, and fingers tangle in hair and fabric, betraying the desperation of the long wait they have both endured. The kiss goes on for as long as they can both go without oxygen, and when they finally pull apart, it is slow and lingering and reluctant.

“Nino,” Ohno murmurs, resting his forehead against Nino’s, “I like you.”

“Idiot,” Nino laughs, “you’re supposed to confess _before_ you make out with someone.”

“You didn’t confess, either,” Ohno responds with a pout. “Or does that mean you don’t like me back?”

“I wouldn’t make out with you if I didn’t like you.”

“Exactly.”

It takes them nearly fifteen minutes to leave the dressing room. As they exit the building, hand in hand, Nino catches sight of the cameraman, watching them with a knowing smirk.


End file.
